


We Were Meant To Be

by mrgoldsdearie



Series: Nygmobblepot Ficlets [21]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Edward sticks his finger in that goat’s asshole, Fluff and Smut, Interspecies Sex, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Mythical Creatures Fucking and Loving It! Along With Other Fluffy Shit!, Nymph!Edward, Satyr!Oswald, Smut, Water Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-28 15:51:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12610136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrgoldsdearie/pseuds/mrgoldsdearie
Summary: Satyr!Oswald wants to give Nymph!Edward a gift, but his self-doubt causes him to eat it.





	We Were Meant To Be

**Author's Note:**

  * For [my_chemical_romanoff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_chemical_romanoff/gifts).



> Yes, I had to write them fucking. What else was I supposed to do? As always, sketches reposted with artist permission. Please like, comment, or reblog if you enjoyed the story. Happy reading! Ꮚ˘̴͈́ꈊ˘̴͈̀Ꮚ⋆✩

That day at the river when the Satyr first met the most beautiful creature he's ever seen was one of the best days he's had in years.The Nymph was kind to Oswald and treated him with the respect and compassion he hasn't received since his mother was killed by the gods. Oswald wants to return the kind gestures of the Water Nymph with a gift worthy of someone so enchanting.

Oswald ferreted around the forest in hopes to find something he could give to the Nymph. He searched high and low, even areas of the forest forbidden by the gods, and found nothing that he thought would impress the Water Nymph.

The day fades away and Oswald finds himself back on the old familiar stump where he first heard Edward's bewitching song. His hands lay bare with a hollowness brewing in the pit of his stomach because of his failed mission. The Satyr sighed in his defeat, lying down on the stomp—his back making a thud—and thinks about the day he'll always remember, but never relive with the ethereal Nymph.

“Violets,” Oswald gurgled to himself and smacks his lips. Why is he thinking about food? “Violets," he repeats and the floral taste fills his mouth as he plops over on his right side, rubbing his belly. He listens to the trees rustling in wind and his hair sways with its moments. Peaceful day, considering that he couldn't find anything to gift to Edward. At least he still has that memory of violets… As he watches the leaves flowing through the wind, a thought hits him in the face like a brink. “Oh!—” Oswald's eyes widen with realization, “Violets!” He suddenly sits up and bops himself on the head. Why couldn't he think of these hours ago?

Violets just so happened to be the Satyr's meal the day he met the Water Nymph. If it wasn't for them and his insatiable appetite, he and Edward probably wouldn't have had their first encounter. Not only are violets delicious, but they are beautiful and will make the perfect gift for the Nymph.

Oswald quickly hops down from the old stomp and marches to the area he found the flowers several days ago.

##  **~*~**

Guided by his two most trustworthy tracking devices; his nose and his rumbling tummy, Oswald finds the patch of violets just beyond the bush of berries he was “snacking” on when he originally found the flowers. He wasn't really snacking that day, but rather, engorging himself with the berries and still ate the violets even though he had a full meal.

He bypasses the bush this time and heads straight to the flowers to pick only the most remarkable ones. No missing, brown, or oddly shaped petals in this bouquet for his Water Nymph.

While picking the flowers, it doesn't take long for Oswald to hear the roaring grumble of his stomach. He wasted so much time today trying to find the perfect gift that he didn't think to take a break to eat something.

That's a first.

Now he's starting to lose the light of the sun and he needs to take Edward his gift. He quickly rips up a handful of violets from the forest floor, stuffs them into his mouth and dashes to the river to catch the Nymph before he hibernates for the night. If he does hibernates.

##  **~*~**

Walking as fast as his stubby goat legs can travel, Oswald gets closer to the river, but his hunger and nervousness aren't far behind him. He isn't sure if Edward will like the flowers. The Nymph is a being who's been gifted a magical bar of soap, so flowers must seem inferior to someone who's received a gift from an immortal.

 _“Why would Edward ever be excited about getting common forest flowers?”_  The thought played in Oswald's mind as his pace to the river starts to slow.  _“Why would he ever want anything from a Satyr like me?”_

With his head clouded in self-doubt, Oswald's anxiously starts to nibble on the flowers unknowingly. A little bite on the corner of a leaf abruptly turns into ripping out whole flower heads. He eats and eats as he continues to walk—lost in a haze of his stressful thoughts.

Before Oswald knew it his hooved feet were submerged in the river's water. Finding himself having cold feet is what woke him from the hypnotic haze.

“Oh no!”, Oswald cries with horror, and a mouth full, as he stares down at the gnawed off flowers in his hand. All he holds now are mostly stems and leaves. He can't give this bouquet of rubbish to a Nymph... A gorgeous, breathtaking, Water Nymph!

“Oswald! Is that really you?” Edward waves from across the river and swims over to the Satyr.

Oswald's heart races as the Nymph gets closer. Now he can't escape or be rid of the flowers. He quickly hides them behind his back, hoping that Edward doesn't ask.

The Nymph emerges from the water, splashing Oswald as he whips his hair out. “I'm so sorry.” He smooths his hair back and squeezes out the water.

“It's—it's fine.” Oswald shakes himself off.

The Nymph giggles behind his right hand as he watches Oswald's floppy ears flap back and forth as he attempts to dry them. “Are you okay now?”

“Yes. It was only water.”

“Oh, I’m not asking about that. I saw you stomping—” he points back at the line of trees in which Oswald emerged from—“all the way into the water and you just stopped. You looked like you were on some kind of potion,” he says with concern in his voice. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, yes,” he answers quickly. “I'm okay.”

“I was worried a little when I saw it was you.”

“I'm really fine, honestly,” Oswald insists, gripping tightly at the stems behind his back.  

“Oh, alright.” Edward takes him for his word and smiles back at the Satyr. “Well, what brings you to the river at this late hour. Shouldn't a little Satyr like you be on your way home.”

Oswald’s freckled cheeks suddenly burn red with fury. He knows he's short, but he doesn't need a reminder every time he encounters someone tall. “Little!?”, he snaps.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” Edward hastily apologizes. He never wanted to offend the Satyr. There's nothing wrong with being small, but he didn't mean to mention anything Oswald might feel insecure about. “I meant—I meant…” He pauses for a moment, scouring his mind for the right word. “I mean it like, charming. Which means pleasant or attractive.”

The sharp look falls from Oswald's face and he raises his brows with his ears perked up. “Charming?” Tips his head to the right.

“Yes,” he assures. He'd never want to hurt the Satyr by allowing him to think that he's being made a joke. “I just used the wrong word. I wasn't emphasizing your stature. I promise.”

Oswald takes in the Nymph’s expression for a moment. The softness of Edward’s face isn't one he's seen on a liar and Oswald has seen the faces of gods. “O—okay, I believe you.”

“Thank you, Oswald.” After wading closer, Edward stands from the water and quickly kisses the Satyr on the cheek.  

Oswald's face flushes. The kiss was cold and soggy, but extremely satisfying—transcending Oswald into a pure state of nirvana.

“So—”Edward steps back a little—“what are you doing here?”, he asks curiously. He’s waited for Oswald’s return and has kinda stayed in this area of the river in hopes to set eyes on the Satyr. “I haven't seen you in days and I was starting to think I wouldn't see you again.”

The kiss has made Oswald a little love-struck and he says the first thing without thinking. “I wanted to bring you something.” He instantly gasps, as he realizes the words that have fallen from his lips, and his jaw drops the to bottom of the river. If he could, he would kick himself for saying that. He didn’t mean to mention the flowers.  _Damnit to the gods!_

Edward's face blooms and a euphoric rush sweeps over him. “You brought me a gift?”,  he asks excitedly. “I saw you holding something while you were walking, but I didn't think it was anything for me.” He closes some of the gap between them. “Oh, I love gifts.” His eyes widen with wonder. “Please—please show me!”

Oswald’s heart hammers in his narrow chest. He was hoping he didn't have to do it. He could have stood there all night with his hand behind his back and not shown the Nymph anything, but it’s far too late for that. Oswald has shot himself in the foot.

“Please, Oswald, show me your gift,” the Nymph pleaded. “I’ve been wondering why you were standing that way.”

Having no other choice but to reveal his handful of shit, Oswald lowers his head and slumps his shoulders as he brings his right hand out from around his back. “They used to be violets,” he muttered almost incoherently. “Sorry I got hungry…..and nervous.”

Edward looks down at the half-eaten bouquet and titters as a soft blush spreads across his face. “It's the thought that counts.”

[[X]](http://askoswaldandedward.tumblr.com/post/166539747706/satyr-oz-being-half-goat-accidentally-eats-some)

The Satyr quickly look up and finds a smile on the Nymph's face. This is not what he expected to see. He flinches a little when Edward accepts the flowers from his hand. “You still want them?”

“Of course I do.” Edward smells the only whole flower in the bouquet. “You gave them to me and I love them.”

Oswald is filled with acceptance as his confidence skyrockets. The longing to kiss the Nymph’s beautiful lips becomes harder to ignore. They kissed the first time they've met and the Satyr has craved for another ever since.

“I want to kiss you,” Oswald says and completely closes the space between them, pressing his bare chest against Edward's. “Can I kiss you again?”, he asks, tail wagging uncontrollably as he stands on the tip of his hooved feet to get closer to the Nymph's lips.

Edward breathes faster as he gazes down into the Satyr's eyes and licks his lower lip. The myriad of green hues sparkling in Oswald's eyes against the sunset is unlike anything he's ever seen. He brings his left hand up to the Satyr's cheek and slowly draws him into his smooth, damp, lips.

They meld into each other, feeling the connection pulling them together intensify with their touch.

Edward parts his lips and Oswald slips his tongue inside, grazing his muscle against the taller, stunning, creature—tasting the fresh water of the river inside the Nymph. He drapes his arms around Edward's waist, keeping him close against his body.

Edward’s hand travels from Oswald's stubbled cheek and it slides down between them, caressing over the Satyr's drenched chest. He wraps his right arm—still holding the ravaged bouquet—around Oswald's neck and slowly guides them back to the deeper part of the river, never breaking their embrace.

The river is cold since the sun is going down behind them—painting the sky with a kaleidoscope of colors—but Oswald doesn't mind the dropping temperatures. Edward's kiss warms his body on the inside and the out.

The water gently lifts them and pushes them down the river, neither of them noticing the movement.

“Ughn,” Edward moaned on Oswald's lips when his back lightly slams against the soft stones of the river bank. He moves his arm from around Oswald's neck and lays his bouquet on the edge of the bank. He grips Oswald's waist and his hand slide through the soaked, tight, coils of his fur. The feeling is peculiar and new. “I'm sorry,” Edward chuckles as he removes his lips from Oswald's. “Your fur….”

“What about my fur!?” Oswald squints. He thought things were at one between them, but now he has to deal with discrimination?

“It just feels so interesting and odd.”

 [[X]](http://askoswaldandedward.tumblr.com/post/166567637706/satyr-oz-and-water-nymph-ed-make-sweet-love-in-the)

“You don't like it!”, Oswald huffs, crossing his arms.

“No, no,” he says sweetly and unwraps the Satyr's arms, laying Oswald's hands on his shoulders in an attempt to assure him. It appears that the Satyr might have a short fuse, but Edward doesn't think it's anything he can't handle. "I adore your fur.”

Oswald takes in a short breath. It unbelievable that a Satyr, who can't even give a proper gift of flowers, is being adored by a this beautiful Water Nymph. “Do you really mean that?”

“It's true…. I adore everything about you.” He places a finger on the sharp tip of Oswald's horn and slowly slides it down to the base. “I adore your horns, your floppy ears, and those captivating eyes leave me breathless.” He combs his hand through the Satyr’s charcoal hair. “I've thought about you since that day. I wanted to see you again, but I didn't know where to find you.”

“I live in the area.” Oswald twists his finger in the Nymph’s long, soaked, brunette curls. “I could show you tomorrow.”

“Why tomorrow?” Edward asks.

“It's getting darker. Don't you have to go when the sun goes down?”

“No.” Edward slowly shakes his head “I love the night. I enjoy the way the moon and the stars reflect their light on the river. It's honestly a magical view.”

“I'd like to see that with you.”

Edward leans in closer to Oswald until their noses barely touch and that they're breathing in each other's breath. “Then stay with me,” he whispers and reconnects their lips. He consumes Oswald as his right-hand moves from Oswald's thigh and dips between them, stroking his fingertips tantalizingly over the Satyr's semi-erection—learning that Oswald finds there interaction just as arousing. “And make love to me.”

Oswald's body trembles. He doesn't know if he should move away or allow the Nymph to have his way with him. He's never been touched like this by anyone and yet he enjoys the feeling. “Make love?”

“Yes.” Edward wraps his long fingers around Oswald's length and gently strokes him, gazing into his eyes. “Everything between us feels so right and this—” he rests his brow against Oswald's, being very careful of his horns, “this feels even more right.”

“Ah...Mmm…”, Oswald hums. He senses he could cum only from this. “You'd—ah—you’d welcome me inside you?”

“Yes,” he breathes on Oswald's lips and presses them together before continuing to say, “but only if you choose.” He moves his hand a little faster up and down Oswald's throbbing cock, feeling it growing thicker in his hand. “I'll stop if you want me to.”

“No, don't stop.” Oswald digs his nails into Edward’s shoulders. “I—I want to m-make love to you.”

Edward has a feeling that Oswald is a little apprehensive because this may be the first time he's been intimate with another. “Don't be nervous,” he whispers, taking Oswald's right hand down from his shoulder and dips it under the water, guiding the Satyr to his hardening cock. “I can teach you if you don't know how.” He helps to wrap Oswald’s hand around his shaft.

“I know how.” Though he hasn't had sex yet, the Satyr has seen it done. He's stumbled upon couples making love in the forest.

“Good.” Edward tightens his grip on Oswald's cock. “Show me.”

Oswald drops Edward's cock and dips his hand lower to massage the Nymph's perineum—touching Edward in the same way he'd want to be touch. The same way he'd touched himself.

“Ah… Ah…”, the Nymph moans loudly. “You do know what you're doing.”

Oswald moves his fingertips in a circular motion to stimulate Edward's prostate from the outside. He smirks timidly hoping that what he's doing feels good to Edward. The expression of bliss painted on the Nymph’s glowing face is all the reassurance Oswald needs and he adds more pressure, moving his fingers faster.

“Yes!”, Edward blurts out a lot louder than he had expected and his asshole flutters with anticipation. “Right there…. Just like that!”

Oswald slides his hand a little further down and glides a finger into Edward's warm pulsing hole, pumping it gently inside. The constriction around his finger is something he's never felt and he can't wait to feel that muscle squeezes around his cock.  

Before both of them knew it, one finger had become two inside of Edward, stretching him open with each draw and twist of Oswald's wrist.

Edward continues to jack his hand over Oswald's cock— the water they're submerged in makes the perfect lubrication—and his body relaxes as Oswald scissors his fingers inside him.

“Ah…. Uh…. Are you alright?” the Satyr asks, pushing three thick digits inside the Nymph.

“Yes, I'm fine,” Edward pants. “You feel so good, Oswald.” He rolls his hips against Oswald's fingers and wraps his right leg around his waist. “I need more of you inside me."

The Satyr promptly removed his fingers and takes his cock from Edward's grip. He guides himself to the Nymph's opening and groaned as he entered the soft, wet valley between his tanned legs. He leans in close to the Nymph's angelic face and nuzzled his nose into Ed’s soft hair; the flowery fragrance of Edward's loose locks from his magical soap pulled another satisfied groan from his lips. His hips pistoned smoothly inside the Nymph while water slashes all around them.

“Ah… Ughn….”, they both grunt.

The sun finally sets, giving way to the light of the moon, as Edward and Oswald's warm wet cheeks brushed against each other in their intimate embrace.

Oswald swivels his hips to push his length deeper inside of the beautiful Nymph’s snug core—pounding his back against the rocks behind him.

“M-more….” Edward runs his nails down Oswald's back until he reaches the lining of his fur. He scrapes his fingers through the soggy, thick, hair, feeling the ripples of water from the excited wagging of Oswald's tail. He grips Oswald’s cheeks before traveling to his tail to find Oswald’s hole underneath and slicks his finger inside. His touch draws out the wild animal hiding deep inside the Satyr that causes him to thrust harder and faster. "Ah...ah...ah!", the Nymph moans with every solid ram against him.

Oswald drives his cock farther inside the Nymph's tightness and Ed's muscles grips around Oswald—sending jolts down his spine every time he pulls out and slams back within. “Ah… Ah!”, Oswald groans and grapples onto the river bank, digging his fingers into the mud. He uses his deep grip as leverage to increase the power of his plunges within Edward's taut asshole.

Edward fingers the Satyr as his heaving chest bore a delightful pink hue. His own hard cock is pressed between their bodies but their fiction and the penetration up his ass is all he needs to reach the climax. “Ah…oh…I'm cumming." His toes curls every time Oswald hit the tip of his cock dead on his prostate. “Ungh,” he groaned in ecstasy, again and again, closing his eyes as his balls begin to tremble—riding out the powerful slams of the Satyr's endless rhythm.

"I’m—I’m—I’m gonna cum too!” Oswald shouted, giving fair warning as he couldn’t stop it from happening. Edward pounds his finger repeatedly inside of Oswald, reaching places the Satyr never thought anyone would reach— feeling sensations he never thought he'd have. He takes several more plunges inside Edward’s ass before he clenches his jaw and lolls his head as his cock erupted forcefully, deep within the Nymph, expelling a heavy load of cum. He removes his hands from the mud and grasps Edward's skinny hips. He holds himself deep inside as his body quakes with the rapturous orgasm.

Edward’s release came just a quick and as hard of Oswald's. The water washed away his thick release before its warmth could spread between their bodies.  He pulls his finger out of Oswald's ass and ghosts his quivering lips over the Satyr's. “I—I told you everything w-was right between us.” He lifts his hand out of the water and points behind Oswald. “Look…”

Breathing heavily, Oswald turns and looks upon what Edward wanted him to see; a group of fireflies flitting over the river. “Fireflies,” he says in awe of their sudden presence.

“Yes—” Edward gently turns his head to look back at him— “and they dance just for us in the moon’s light.

“Just for us?”

“Yes, Oswald.” Edward kisses him again, nibbling sweetly on his bottom lip. “We were meant to be,” he says, hushed.


End file.
